


Shouting Match

by britgeekgrrl



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Dom/sub, Gen, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 20:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britgeekgrrl/pseuds/britgeekgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fight hand been brewing for weeks...</p><p>(Set shortly after the S1 eps "Cyberwoman")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Initially a bit I bashed out to get it out of my head, it became the beginning of a series that remains unfinished, six years later because, TBH, I decided it was going in the wrong direction. But, for posterity's sake - and I *did* have fun with them at the time...

The fight had been brewing for weeks, but that didn’t make it any easier when the words were finally said – shouted, in fact – across the boardroom’s table.

“Why couldn’t you help her? Save her the way you did me?”

 _Shit. He remembered_. Jack counted the human mind’s ability to blank out what it didn’t understand in the midst of trauma. Of all the times for that to fail…

“It doesn’t work like that.” The words tasted unpleasant, as white lies often did.

“Are you sure?”

Jack didn’t like the look Ianto was giving him, but he knew he could brazen it out. _But why should I? Doesn’t he at least deserve the truth – even if he wouldn’t do the same for us?_

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t think to try.”

Ianto didn’t buy it, “Why not?”

 _In for a penny, in for a pound_. “You kill monsters. You didn’t try to save them. There’s nothing to save. There certainly wasn’t of Lisa.”

Ianto head sank into his hands, trying to hide. Anger he could share, could take out on someone, but not this. “Go away,” he muttered, blinking fiercely. “Go away and leave me alone like you always do.”

Jack almost did as Ianto asked, but thought better of it. “No.”

“What?” Surprise jarred him out of his misery.

“I said _no_. I’m not going to let you blame me for what happened, for not ‘saving’ Lisa, when you could have done it yourself.”

Ianto stared at Jack, words not quite coming as they should.

“All you had to do was tell us about her. You bitch at me for not knowing a damn thing about you or anyone else on the team, but you never bothered to do anything about that, yourself. But if you could have just told us. Told _me_ …” It hurt Jack more than he could say that Ianto didn’t or couldn’t confide in him.

Ianto looked disgusted. “Why? So you could kill the monster that much sooner?”

Jack shook his head, regretting his earlier choice of words. “She only went over the edge when you… released her.” Jack insisted. “You admitted that much yourself - that she changed at the end. Freedom for her in that state was too much.” _At least, that’s my theory_. “But before then. God only knows what we could have done. You’ve got two brilliant physicians out there,” Jack waved a hand in the general direction of the Hub’s central workspace, “and I’m a pretty good engineer. Clearly you’ve got some talent in that area, too, or else you wouldn’t have been able to keep her alive as long as you did. But for whatever reason, you decided to keep her a secret and now she’s dead. Your choice. Your consequences.”

“That’s not-”

“Not true? Bullshit. You kept your girlfriend locked up like Sleeping Beauty and why?” Ianto looked dejected and said nothing. “That wasn’t a goddamn rhetorical question!” Now it was Jack’s turn to shout. “After all the shit we’ve been through, after all the times we’ve had to save each other’s asses, you still decided to keep something that big, that _important_ to yourself, and I want to know why, damn it! Did you really think we’d try to kill her on sight? Or did you just like having your girl in a bell jar, safe and sound from all other men? Nice relationship you musta had.”

That did it. Ianto jumped to his feet. “Like you know sod all about _happy relationships_.” he snapped. “Living in a fucking hole in the ground and shagging your way through every bar in Cardiff.”

Jack winced. Perhaps making it personal wasn’t such a good idea. He’d forgotten that Ianto was the most observant member of the team, given the chance. He sagged back in his chair and looked into a cup of coffee, long since cold. “Point.” He conceded, the irritation seeping away like rain on dry ground. “But that doesn’t answer the question.”

Ianto glared, bristling at Jack’s insistence. “I didn’t trust you, alright? Happy?” _Anything but_ , Jack thought. “I didn’t trust you, Owen, Tosh or even Suzie. I couldn’t trust you not to see Lisa and immediately think of her as a _thing_.” Ianto shuddered at the memory of the Japanese expert who hadn’t done much better. “Based on what you’ve done in the past, are you really surprised? You’d want to _study_ her,” derision dripped from the word. “Probably dissect her. Or keep her locked up and miserable _forever_.”

Jack thought about this, eyes still on the cup of coffee. “You’re right.” He sighed. “We would have, and it would have been the wrong thing to do – to you and Lisa.” Jack shoved the cup away and forced himself to look at Ianto, who was doing his best to stay on his feet and furious – but the façade was cracking. “But you should have asked us for help. Given us a chance to try what you wanted.” _Even if it killed her, which it almost certainly would have_. Jack ignored the little voice that reminded him how many people he’d saved from the brink of death.

“So it’s all my fault, is it?” Ianto asked, bitterly.

Jack nodded and sighed as Ianto stalked out of the boardroom, radiating fury and resentment. _That could have gone better_ , he thought with an inward sigh. _I miss Suzie._


	2. Negotiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A de-facto followup to "Shouting Match", Jack and Ianto meet after hours to discuss trust, lack thereof in regards to them in particular, and how to deal with it. Jack is rather startled by Ianto's suggestions... (Written and originally published shortly after "Countrycide" first aired in 2007)

“The Batcave”, as Ianto had privately dubbed Jack’s living quarters, weren’t quite what he expected. He’d expected the open plan, the subdued lighting in blue and green and furniture that somehow managed to be simultaneously austere and opulent. Dark wood, waxed rather than varnished, predominated, leavened by off-white cushions and some brightly colored accents which were scattered about here and there. What he hadn’t expected were the bookshelves and curio cabinets, – floor to ceiling, on every wall. The built-in units bulged with volumes ranging from mass-produced Chinatown trinkets to ancient coins to something that looked suspiciously like a first edition of the OED.

“I didn’t know you read so much,” Ianto commented politely, looking around and noticing that there was, in fact, a television – half hidden in its cabinet by another stack of books.

“I have a lot of time on my hands.” Something in Jack’s tone jangled. Ianto felt like he had missed a joke – an unpleasant one, but no explanation followed the remark. Jack opened up the fridge that stood near one corner. “Drink? I usually like a beer after quitting time.”

“Oh, er, sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Another surprise. Ianto had never seen Jack imbibe anything stronger than coffee except during times of great stress. Was Jack stressed out, now? And if so, why?

Jack opened two bottles of Corona and passed one to Ianto. “It’s what I’m having this month. Next month, I’ll switch back to something local.” He said, wanting small talk, “I think the Europeans have definitely got the edge when it comes to beer.”

Ianto took a swig from the bottle and privately agreed. It was drinkable enough, he supposed, but perilously light on flavor. _Still, it could be worse. He could be serving Budweiser_.

Jack flopped down onto an easy chair, its battered cushions suggested that it was a particular favorite, and Ianto followed his lead on the nearby sofa.

“You _can_ relax,” Jack drawled, noticing how Ianto perched on the edge of his seat. “I haven’t bought you down here to chop you into stewing meat-“ Ianto’s bottle _clanked_ down on a nearby table. Jack looked puzzled and then mortified as he realized why Ianto glared down at the ground, white-faced. “Oh god, wrong thing to say. I’m sorry!”

Ianto kept his eyes down, trying to control a surge of anger. He knew it was out of proportion. _Chill out_ , he told himself, breathing slowly. _It was just a stupid slip of the tongue. Jack’s never invited anyone down here and something’s on his mind_. Ianto remembered the advice of his ever-patient mother. _Turn the other cheek. There’s two sides to every story_. Not that he’d been following her advice all that closely, of late. He picked up the bottle and swallowed about half of it in one go. “It’s alright.” As a further concession, he tried to settle down on the sofa and found it surprisingly comfortable.

Poker faced, Jack watched Ianto relax a little, despite himself. “I, uh…” He stopped and tried to find better words, something more confident. “I wanted to talk about what happened the other night.”

 _The shouting match_. “Are you going to apologize?”

Jack’s face hardened at Ianto’s sharp tone. “No. I won’t apologize for being honest, but,” he held up a hand, trying to forestall any outburst that might be brewing. “But you brought up a good point. About trust.”

Ianto continued to sip at his beer, hoping to hide a brief tremor. “Oh, yes?”

Jack nodded. “Despite what we’ve been through, there’s not a lot of trust on the team.”

“There’s quite a lot, actually,” Ianto disagreed. “I think what you mean is that there’s a not a lot of trust between me and you. Else why invite me down here for a private chat after hours?”

“Well, a couple of other ideas occurred to me,” Jack admitted, with a hint of a grin, “But that would only get your suit rumpled and give you more ammunition for the whole _harassment_ thing.”

 _Really?_ Despite his lingering anger about Lisa’s death – her _murder_ – Ianto would be lying if he claimed such a notion was entirely unwelcome, despite the occasional turmoil that realization caused. Ianto said nothing and waited for Jack to continue.

Jack noted the lack of a horrified response from Ianto and he, too, filed the observation away for further thought. He took a deep breath and took the plunge.

“If I was anyone else, I could name you half a dozen ways to fix things. Shared crisis, shared vulnerabilities, they help build trust. Hell, in the old days I’d have handed you a knife and told you to do what you will…”

“Interesting past you must have had,” Ianto commented, wondering if Jack really meant what he said.

“Yeah, it was.” Jack frowned at a host of unpleasant memories, but dragged himself back to the matter at hand. “But the thing is, that approach. The _put your life in the other guy’s hands_ sort of thing just won’t work for me, not now.”

Ianto’s curiosity re-manifested. “Why not?”

Jack took another deep breath, gathered his nerve. “I’ll tell you…”

...                     ...                     ...

Almost an hour later, Ianto placed a second empty Corona by the first and shook his head.

“What? Don’t you believe me?” Jack asked, anxiously.

“No, no. It’s not that. I do believe you, as a matter of fact. It’s just a lot to take in.” It also explained a lot, Ianto realized, about Jack. His occasional recklessness, his determination to keep the team at arm’s length – even his sartorial tastes, to some degree.

Ianto ran a hand through his hair. _Where to start…?_ He noticed Jack’s expression. He looked anxious and even vulnerable, which Ianto had to admit was touching, and even flattering in a way. _Which was probably his intention_ , the ever-skeptical part of Ianto’s mind pointed out. _If he’s as old as he says, he’s learned more than you ever will about manipulating people. But that’s not the point of this talk, is it?_ Ianto thought not.

By virtue of having spent most of the past year lying on a regular basis, Ianto considered himself fairly apt at spotting dishonesty and, for the first time in quite a while, he wasn’t getting even the slightest hint of it from Jack. That nervous, slightly hangdog expression was genuine. _Does he think I’m going to have him committed? I suppose he might…What now?_ Ianto decided that if Jack wanted to bare his soul, the opportunity shouldn’t be passed up.

“Do you know why?”

Jack shook his head, gloomily pulling at his third beer. “I don’t. It could have been some sort of weird accident, or a side effect or even an apology.” Jack said bitterly.

“For what?”

Ianto strained to hear the reply muttered into the neck of a beer bottle. “Leaving me behind.”

“That would be… odd.” _Bloody horrible, more like_. Ianto felt a pang of sympathy, at odds with his lingering resentment.

Jack nodded. “The whole episode was odd, or weren’t you listening?” Jack tried for levity and failed. He toyed with a bottlecap and then threw it aimlessly across the room.

“How do you feel about this Time Lord, then? Pretend for a moment that none of all that,” Ianto waved a hand, “Has happened. Just as an ordinary man – or as close to it as you ever were – how’d you feel about him?”

Jack looked uncomfortable. “I don’t see what that’s-“

“No.” Ianto said with uncharacteristic firmness. Jack looked up from his beer, surprised. “You don’t get to choose where to draw the line, tonight. I don’t think you’ve told me anything you haven’t already told someone else.”

 _Damn it, it’s always the quiet ones who are the most astute_ , Jack thought with a wince. “I suppose I loved him.” Jack admitted, still small-voiced.

“Suppose?” Skeptical again.

“It was complicated.” Jack protested.

“You don’t need to tell me about love being complicated, about differences making things difficult, or about love making you do crazy things.” Ianto realized he had raised his voice. So be it. Ianto suspected that Jack didn’t realize how bloody patronizing he could be.

Jack got the point. “Yeah, you’re right. That was thoughtless of me. Again.”

“So how was it complicated?” Ianto persisted.

“I still don’t see how this is relevant.”

“This isn’t about your comfort, remember? It’s about mine.”

 _And I think you’re enjoying that a little too much_ , Jack thought, seeing a glint in Ianto’s eye. “Tell me,” Ianto insisted. “I’d like to know about how Heartless Harkness got tangled up in something complicated.”

Jack spluttered. “What did you call me?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard that yet? It’s been bandied about of late. I’m sure you can figure out why,” Ianto said, dryly. “So, answer the question.”

Jack retreated into bluster. “Because he was 900 years older than me, from a completely different culture, carrying enough emotional baggage to cripple an elephant and… there was a girl…” Jack finished lamely.

“I somehow got the impression that you wouldn’t consider that a problem.”

“Yeah, but she would have. Monogamous twenty-first century type.” Jack shrugged.

“So he was older and a bit different. Big deal. And the possibility of a triad? Another non-event.” Jack’s attention sharpened at Ianto’s choice of words. “For god’s sake, Jack, from the hints you’ve scattered around, neither of those situations would be problematic.” Ianto paused for a moment’s thought. “He changed you, didn’t he?”

“And how,” Jack grumbled. “But you’ve already heard my theory on that.”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean _emotionally_. He got to you.” Ianto thought it over as he made a show of looking over the stack of books beside the empty beers. A history of Constantinople, stacked atop a recipe book, resting in turn, upon a copy of Avedon’s _The Sixties_. “In fact, I suspect his apparent abandonment is what’s keeping you up at night, more so than the how and why of your current state.”

Jack clammed up. He’d expected Ianto to put a few things together, but not so quickly, or so accurately.

Ianto nodded. “And now what? You think that if you emulate him enough, he’ll come back? Keep putting yourself in the right place and the right time-“

“What makes you think I’m doing that?”

“Please. There’s only one Time Lord left, Jack, even I’ve picked up that much from the archives. And he’s inextricably associated with Torchwood – from the foundation to the destruction of Canary Wharf. If you’re stuck in this era, as you think you are, being involved with Torchwood is the most likely way to track him down.”

Jack said nothing, trying to hold on to what little ground he had left.

“Do you think he’ll like you as you are, now? Some sort of fusion of what you were and what he is?”

“How do you reach that conclusion?” _Damn, I think it’s time to give Ianto another psi test…_ The fact that perhaps Jack wasn’t nearly as opaque as he thought he was simply didn’t occur to him.

Ianto stopped Jack cold with another long, level, look that said, quite clearly, _please don't assume that I'm a moron_. “I’ve read the archives. Ours _and_ UNIT’s. You hardly sleep, you regenerate, you said so yourself that you’ve figured out some things about time travel that you weren’t ever taught by that Time Agency of yours. You’re some sort of… hybrid, if you ask me.”

Jack nodded. “Which doesn’t answer the _why_ , but it’s a pretty good hypothesis for the _how_ , don't you think?”

“I do. It’s certainly the most likely conclusion, given what you’ve said.”

Jack sat back, making a show of taking a pull from his bottle as he gathered his thoughts. He hoped the gamble had paid off. He’d practically bared his soul – _what there is left of it_ , he thought wryly – hoping to close some of the distance between them. If this didn’t work, he was out of ideas. Well, there were a few others, but he didn’t want to shock this well-behaved boy from the valleys.

Jack’s plan _had_ worked, much to Ianto’s surprise. Despite the cynicism Ianto had tried to maintain throughout, there was no denying that Jack had managed to dismantle it, piece by piece, leaving Ianto a little overwhelmed, a little ashamed, and wondering what to do next. A thoroughly private, yet persistent, part of his mind made a few suggestions. Ianto tried to ignore them. _There’s a time and a place for everything, boyo, and I doubt this is either of them_. And yet...And yet, when, if not now? Wouldn’t it be appropriate to match confidence for confidence?

 _What the hell, Jones. Go for broke_. “You know what I think you need?”

“Pray, tell.” Jack countered, intrigued by Ianto’s suddenly confident tone.

“Validation. Rather, reassurance that you’re doing the right thing.”

“Oh?” An assortment of ideas crossed Jack’s mind, all of them immediately discounted as too outlandish.

“Who leads the leader? More to the point, who tells him he did well at the end of the day?”

“You make me sound like a horse.” Jack grumbled.

“Pony boys aren’t my thing.” Ianto declared with a deliberate artlessness that surprised Jack. It implied volumes about the young man that Jack honestly hadn’t considered.

Jack mentally retrieved a few of those discarded ideas. “Why do I suddenly think that you don’t have a regular cup of tea and a heart-to-heart chat in mind?”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Ianto finished his beer. _Put up or shut up time_ , he decided. “Have you ever been a submissive – a sexual submissive?”

Surprise forced Jack to default to _glib mode_. “I’ve been tied up a few times, sure,” he said easily. Besides, he didn’t need some 21st century throwback telling him about kink.

“That’s not an answer. Again. You always dodge the questions that cut too close, don’t you?”

“I’m only human.”

“That wasn’t what you were saying earlier. And you’re still avoiding the question.” Ianto wouldn’t be put off.

“What was it again?” Jack replied swiftly, playing for time.

Ianto gave him a long-suffering look. “Jack…” he warned.

“Alright.” Jack realized he was out of line. “No. I haven’t. Play-acting, sure, but for real?” he shook his head.

“Why not?” Ianto suspected he could guess at the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Jack.

“Because…” Jack took a deep breath. “Because I’ve never trusted anyone enough.” He looked wry. “I’ve run with a pretty unreliable crowd.”

“I’m not surprised to hear it.”

Jack thought about it – about the games that he’d played, and the roles he’d taken. He was well-versed in the permutations of d/s, no argument there. But had he really submitted to someone? No. He’d certainly pretended to do so, when advantageous to other goals being pursued, but truly relinquished control? Of course not.

The implications of the conversation sunk in and Jack realized that not only was he shocked, but he was intimidated. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

“Wait…” he said slowly, turning a little pale. “Are you suggesting that I let you top me?”

Ianto stared at Jack, an expression that left Jack feeling strangely exposed. “Yes, I am.”

“Whoa.” Jack wasn’t sure if he found Ianto’s blunt matter-of-factness disconcerting or really hot. He certainly wasn’t used to being the flustered half of such a conversation.

“You want to earn my trust,” Ianto said, relentless. “but, as you said, the usual avenues aren’t really viable. So, we’ve got to consider the unusual options. It would be a reciprocal arrangement. You earn my trust, by trusting me first. By allowing me to top you – within pre-defined boundaries, of course.”

Jack’s jaw didn’t quite drop, but it was a near thing. Where to start? Ianto had flirted a bit bitchily with Jack in the past, but Jack had put that down to the usual het-male affirmation. And, sure, there’d been a couple of smoldering glances after a late night at the pub but, as the saying went, the difference between a straight man and a gay one was an empty six pack, so – again - Jack had talked himself out of taking the possibility seriously. But this? And… _this_? Who knew what lurked beneath that painfully proper suit? Then again, it _would_ explain a few things…

Jack wanted to regain control of the conversation. “How did we get from validation to submission?”

“Because I can’t offer you validation. I’m in no position to approve or disapprove of what you’ve done-“

Jack couldn’t believe that. “Oh, come on! You’ve had some pretty strong opinions-“

“That’s true, I have. But my opinion is entirely different from actual validation of your actions at large. It’s not something I can give you, and I don’t think I’d want to be in a position to do so. But I could offer you approval of a sort – of certain behavior, so to speak.”

Suspicion crept into Jack’s mind. “This isn’t some involuted form of revenge, is it?”

Ianto shook his head, realizing as he spoke that he meant it. “No, there’s no point. I can’t kill you. I can’t even seriously hurt you, to hear you tell it. And anger shouldn’t be a part of the equation, of course.”

Jack was reassured by the answer. He was a little worried that Ianto might be reaching beyond the range of his experience – he had nothing by which to judge him.

“How can you talk about this so… casually?” Jack demanded. Ianto might as well have been discussing coffee beans. Hell, he would probably have been more animated about coffee. Secretly, Jack was impressed.

Ianto shifted in his chair, not quite as comfortable as he appeared. _Thank god for tailored trousers_ , he thought. “Would you believe _years of practice_?” he asked, dryly.

Jack laughed. “Not really, but if that’s your answer…?”

Ianto ignored the bait. “You have to talk rationally about this sort of thing ahead of time, otherwise it all goes to hell, later.”

“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, huh?”

“Yes. I should think that you already know that.”

“I wanted to be sure that _you_ did.” Jack countered.

He wanted time to think. Jack went to the fridge for another round of beer, taking his time opening the bottles and passing one to Ianto.

“And you don’t think this would… threaten our working relationship?”

“Not if we’re careful.” Ianto paused. “More careful than Gwen and Owen.”

Jack laughed at that. “That wouldn’t be too difficult.”

Ianto nodded, wondering if Jack could sense how his mind was racing. Ever since Tosh unloaded to him about Mary’s pendant, late one night over a bottle of merlot…

The silence stretched out between them. Ianto let Jack take his time.

“Only here.” Jack said, abruptly. “It could only happen here. After hours.”

Ianto nodded, and wondered if his heart was about to break free from its moorings, it was beating so fast. A spur of the moment thought, and a long-cherished, extremely private daydream was suddenly quite close to reality.

“Alright.” Ianto smiled, a triumphant expression that had Jack wondering just how long this had been on his mind. “The next steps are rather bureaucratic, I’m afraid. Lots of questions and answers and yet _more_ talk,” Ianto apologized. “But there’s something else I have to do, first.” He crossed to where Jack was half-slouched on his favorite easy chair and, in conscious imitation of a gesture he’d seen Jack use many times, took his face in his hands.

“Can you trust me?” Now Jack could hear a slight tremor in Ianto’s voice, feel it through his fingers. “ _Will_ you trust me?”

“I’m willing to try.” Jack noticed that his mouth was dry and that perhaps that faint shaking wasn’t _entirely_ Ianto. _Don’t overthink this, Jack, just look at him_ – and he did, noticing how Ianto’s slightly-solemn frown complemented his wide-eyed concern. Irreverently, Jack realized how very much he wanted to lick Owen’s lower lip.

Ianto watched Jack in turn and nodded, apparently satisfied. “Good. If you’d just said yes, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

Jack’s patience broke. “Will you please kiss me already?” He asked plaintively.

Jack let Ianto hold him still, almost immobile, as they kissed – a short, gentle moment, not the demanding gesture Jack half-expected, half-wanted. “ _Please_ is a good start…” Ianto smiled.


	3. Incognito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A de-facto follow up to Negotiation, the BDSM-talk-fic of doooom. The time for talk is done - in a manner of speaking - as Jack starts to get an inkling of what he let himself in for.
> 
> Originally published on my fannish LJ in 2007

  
***IANTO HAS LOGGED IN***

IANTO: So, you got the package I left?

JACK: Yes.

IANTO: Did you open it?

JACK: Yes.

IANTO: And did you follow the instructions?

JACK: Yes.

IANTO: Glad to hear it. How are you feeling?

JACK: Awkward.

IANTO: How so?

JACK: The first part wasnt so bad, but going to the bathroom earlier was a hell of an adventure. I think I'd rather pill Myfanwy than try to figure my way through all of that again.

IANTO: All of what?

JACK: You know.

IANTO: Yes, I do, but I want to see you say it.

JACK: Alright. A garter belt's bad enough, I'm sure, and they were never meant to be worn under trousers like this. I don't know how women do it.

IANTO: How do you feel?

JACK: I told you, a bit weirded out, but fine.

IANTO: Be more specific.

JACK: ...

IANTO: I know you're still there, I can see you at your desk.

JACK: Damn cameras. Give me a moment. It's not language I'm familiar with.

IANTO: I'm surprised. But that doesn't get you off the hook. Tell me.

JACK: It's strange. Everything's so _smooth_ , almost slick. Like my legs are a funky kind of teflon. The fabric of my pants rubbing at the stockings feels _really_ odd, as if my skin's *more* sensitive, despite the hose - more so than I expected, I mean. But the stockings keep the wool from being irritating so it's just...distracting. Really distracting.

IANTO: You've moved your monitor, Jack. Afraid of someone seeing this?

JACK: What do YOU think?

IANTO: Don't answer a question with a question. And you haven't answered mine. Are you afraid of someone seeing the chat window?

JACK: Yes.

IANTO: Good.

JACK: I'm glad _you're_ pleased. :-P

IANTO: That's the point. And don't get smart.

JACK: Or what?

IANTO: Nice try, Jack. No.

JACK: Damn.

IANTO: Do you _like_ how it feels?

JACK: It's strange, but kind of sensual, too. I could learn to like it, I guess... You're not going to make this a regular thing, are you?

IANTO: That's new. I've never seen you _fidget_ , before. I like it - mostly because I know _why_ you can't sit comfortably. Better hope the others don't notice, hm? I wonder what you'd tell them if they asked?

JACK: You're not going to answer my question, are you?

IANTO: When the time is right and not before.

JACK: That's me off liquids for the rest of the day, then.

IANTO: That's a decision you're free to make.

JACK: Maybe I'll decide to send the staff home early. You said I can get out of this rig after everyone's gone, right?

IANTO: To be accurate, what I said is that I'd take it off you after everyone's gone. _If_ you're good.

JACK: Hot dog! Half day for everyone!

IANTO: Sorry, Jack. We've got a two-hour conference call with UNIT after lunch, the ongoing calm-down talk with the local homicide department and then Tosh is giving you an update on that tech they dredged up from the Mersey, last week. Sending everyone home with all the work that has to be done is hardly 'good'... Besides, I get hard whenever you walk by, knowing what's going on under those trousers, and I'm not going to give that up for a half-day off.

JACK: You ARE trying to kill me. Death-by-endless-erection.

IANTO: So you're turned on, too? Got a thing for tarty underwear, do you? Wish I could take the time to have you prove it, but my schedule's chockablock. Oh, btw, don't forget the Pm's security brief. I rescheduled it for 4PM today.

JACK: Oh, no... It's a conference call, right? I don't think I could face her in this. Tosh is one thing, but Harriet Jones? Ew!

IANTO: You look far sexier than that old cow would, trust me. Just be glad it's not a video conference. What happened to the unflappable man?

JACK: He discovered that garters chafe!

IANTO: Stop whinging. I'll make you a nice cup of tea, later.

JACK: I really hope that's a euphemism for something else.

IANTO: You'll find out. Eventually. And Jack?

JACK: What?

IANTO: if I see a ladder in those stockings at the end of the day, you're in trouble. You have no idea what I went through to find those in your size AND in silk.

***JACK HAS LOGGED OFF***


	4. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rather uncomfortable day at the office, Jack looks forward to some relief - but is that what he's going to get?

The end of the day couldn't come fast enough for Jack. _How on earth did women cope?_ Jack wondered, fidgeting at his desk. The combination of usual and unusual sensations had him disconcerted all day. It was a wonder that no-one else had noticed. At least, he _hoped_ they hadn't. It would have been difficult to explain, to say the least.

 _Finally_ , a messenger window appeared on his monitor, giving him the all-clear to go downstairs.

Jack made the trip from his desk to his quarters in record time. As he expected, Ianto was already waiting for him. He had changed out of his severely tailored suit - Jack noticed in passing that it had been carefully hung up in one corner of the open-plan area - and now wore a simple pair of black slacks, a charcoal grey silk shirt and some rather incongruous black patent dress shoes.

Ianto noticed Jack's surprise at the change. "Special clothes for special occasions." he explained.

"At least yours are on the outside." Jack grumbled. "I think I've got an S-hook permanently embedded into my skin, and for me, that's saying something."

"Poor, long-suffering Jack." Ianto declared, slightly derisive. "Don't sit." he said, suddenly.

Jack stopped in mid-approach to the sofa that called his name. "What?"

"You heard me." Ianto leaned on nearby bookcase, a man with all the time in the world. "Stay there and strip. Let's see what you've been enduring all day for me."

Jack did as he was told, and soon stood before Ianto clad in nothing but a black garter belt, with lace-topped stockings to match. A pair of black silk boxers clashed somewhat with the ensemble, but Jack had recognized what alternatives Ianto might have left for him with a list of instructions and so wasn't terribly worried about a fashion _faux pas_. The warm air - _Ianto must have turned the heat up_ \- felt strange against his recently-shaved legs. Jack scratched at one particularly chafed spot. _Oh, blessed relief_.

"Itches?"

"You've _no_ idea."

"I might." Ianto disagreed. "Still, be glad I let you have your shorts," his indicated the black silk boxers that, Jack had to admit, rather clashed with the ensemble. "Lace knickers _really_ chafe. I couldn't do that to you." Ianto admitted. "I'm a bit of a softie, at heart."

"Thank heavens for small mercies." Jack sighed.

"No, thank _me_."

 _Good point_. "Thank you." he said, a little awkwardly.

What really had Jack at odds was that this was still the Ianto he knew from upstairs. There was no toppish mask, no faked melodrama designed to "set the scene". This was still the same soft-spoken, almost reserved young man. Only the self-effacing diffidence had been left behind and, somewhere along the line, an undercurrent of smokingly hot tension had been acquired. Overall, it was simultaneously disconcerting and reassuring.

Ianto suppressed a smile at Jack's discomfort - he didn't want Jack thinking this was just some lark. He made a point of circling Jack, just beyond arm's length, assessing his handiwork. Ianto had been hard-pressed to think of something, _anything_ for Jack to submit to that he might not have done before, _and_ something that might push the edges of his usual comfort-zone without going too far. _Bull's eye_ , he thought, smugly pleased at what he'd wrought. Although, privately, Ianto had to admit that he was surprised at how turned on he had been, himself, all day. It wasn't the notion of Jack in lingerie, per se, but the fact that Jack had, indeed, followed Ianto's instructions to the letter. _That was the ostensible point._ But watching the telltale signs of Jack's unease all day had distracted him, significantly. _So much for a detached exercise in seeing if Jack would follow orders unsupervised_ , he thought.

"Yes," Ianto said finally. "I think I like you like that. In fact, I like it so much..." Ianto went to sports bag that lay on the ground and removed a camera. "I want a picture."

Before Jack could protest, the shutter had already clicked, and then twice more. Ianto looked at the display on the back of the digital camera. "Yes, very nice. See?"

Ianto brought the camera over, and Jack forced himself to take in the sight. _This must be the first time I've blushed in over a decade_. A born tranvestite, Jack Harkness was _not_. There was an insufficiency of curves, for a start - but he was doing as he was told.

"What are you going to do with that?" Jack asked, trying to sound only slightly anxious and failing.

"I'm going to keep it, and you'll just have to take my word that it won't end up on the office Christmas card." Ianto told him, returning the camera from whence it came. "I'll look at it from time to time. I might even take it into the gents during lunch and wank myself senseless." he added with a selfish grin. "I had to do that a _lot_ today," Ianto approached Jack, stood very close. "Every time I saw you walking around the office, I imagined how you felt, what it must look like and I'd have to go- now, now, I didn't say you could touch me." Ianto swatted a hand away as Jack, almost without thinking, tried to eliminate the distance between them.

"Easy for you to say," Jack said, breathing quickly. "At least you got to jerk off."

Ianto looked pleased. Jack was _really_ trying if he'd heeded that part of his instructions. "That explains _this_ , then." Ianto grasped Jack's erect cock through his shorts and Jack's knees almost buckled. "You managed to ignore _that_ , all day? Impressive." In it's way, it was. The unsupervised restrictions were the most tempting to break, Ianto knew.

"It's not like the lingerie made it easy to get to..." Jack gasped, wondering if he'd ever be able to listen to one of Ianto's deadpan jokes ever again without remembering this moment. _Damn it, why won't he do more?_. Ianto's steady hold on him was driving him crazier than any slow jacking off.

"So much for thinking you'd be...unmanned by all this. I suppose you could feel my eyes on you all day, and you're _such_ an attention whore." Ianto took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I bet you'd let me get you off like this, lace and all, if it meant getting what you wanted. Sit you in my lap like some tart at a strip club. Would you like that?" Jack gasped and moved against Ianto's hand making Ianto smile in the darkened room. "I shouldn't be surprised. You're always willing, aren't you, Jack? No matter what."

"I don't care how you do it, as long as you do." There was only so much teasing he could take...

"You'll get your pleasure when I've had mine. Maybe I want to see you come all over those oh-so-pretty stockings, first."

"You said..." Jack gasped, on the verge of losing rational speech entirely. The effort of not throwing Ianto over his shoulder increased exponentially with every moment. Ianto standing there so calm and collected did _not_ help. Only the slightest hint of a tremor - Jack could feel it through Ianto's hand and hear it in his voice - hinted at how he felt. Otherwise, he might have been discussing the weather.

"So I did, and you'll get your pleasure when I've had what I want from you." Ianto squeezed Jack's cock possessively.

Jack added _filthy conversations in a Welsh accent_ to the list of things that made him go weak.

Ianto abruptly let go. "But, first, we have to deal with the fact that you broke a rule."

"What?"

"You got grabby." Ianto stepped behind Jack, wrapped his arms around his waist and breathed in his ear. "And you don't get to do that until I say it's alright." Jack really didn't give a damn, he was too busy taking advantage of the close contact. He leaned back into Ianto's arms and pushed his ass against Ianto's erection, mentally cursing all the layers of fabric between them.

A sudden swat across the ass focused Jack's attention. "I don't need to tell you how to assume the position, do I?" Ianto said as he stepped back.

Jack licked his lips and contemplated a smart-mouthed remark, then thought better of it. Instead, he did as he was told and bent over, linking his hands behind his knees. Peripherally, he saw Ianto return to his bag, but couldn't see what he was doing with it. _I'll find out,_ he realized, caught between worry and curiosity.

A flash of light reflecting from metal caught Jack's attention and cooled his enthusiasm for a moment, until it became apparent that Ianto had decided to cut Jack's shorts away. "I really can't be bothered with unhooking those garters," Ianto said conversationally and then, just as casually, pushed the scraps into Jack's mouth. "Just in case."

Another swat across the ass took Jack's mind away from speculative matters - including thoughts of what silk tasted like after being worn across a taut cock all day - as Ianto found a rhythm and methodically spanked Jack with his bare hands. At first, Jack tolerated the sensations with easy grace. The stinging swats provided an enjoyable contrast to his throbbing cock.

Apparently sensing Jack's nonchalance, Ianto stepped up the pressure and the pace, causing Jack to squirm a little as the pleasantly stinging sensation morphed into a more pervasive - and more uncomfortable burn - that didn't let up as Ianto continued to ply his hand. Jack would have wondered how Ianto kept it up, but his attention was rapidly turning inward, focusing on a self imposed desire to hold still, despite the urge to flinch away from the regular blows. When Ianto's belt landed across Jack's buttocks, he couldn't help yelping through the silk. Two more stinging slaps followed, evoking a similar reaction, and Jack heard the belt clatter to the floor. Beyond the sound of the the blood rushing through his head, Jack could hear Ianto, breathing heavily. Jack ached to look at Ianto, to check on him, but he dare not move.

"About time," Ianto said, somewhat huskily. He pulled the silken rags out of Jack's mouth, but warned him to remain in place.

A tickling touch, Ianto's fingers trailing lightly across sensitized skin, made Jack flinch again. _Much more of this, and I'm going to fall over_ , he thought, somewhat dizzy, as the light, teasing touch provided a maddening counterpoint to burning skin.

Meanwhile, Ianto enjoyed the sight of Jack trying so hard to maintain a pose of comfort that he hadn't realized had been shattered when Ianto's belt landed on him. In Ianto's experience, there weren't many sights more arousing than that of a self-assured man teetering of the verge of losing control. The lacy underthings were just so much window dressing at this point, although the black lace _did_ nicely set off Jack's reddened ass, Ianto had to admit.

Ianto's hand moved downwards, briefly touching Jack's balls and it was all Jack could do to not break position, grab Ianto and tear that goddamn silk shirt right off him. Instead, he settled for a heartfelt plea. "Ianto, just fuck me already. _Please_."

"Please. That's nice." Ianto smiled, remembering an earlier conversation. "I like hearing that."

"Oh? Good." He didn't care what Ianto had in mind at this point, he just craved freedom from this damned awkward position and the sheer, noisy release of a good fuck.

Derisive amusement saturated Ianto's voice. "But you don't want _me_." he insisted, as the teasing tickling abruptly ceased.

 _What the hell?_

"You're so horny right now, Jack, I bet you'd let anyone fuck you." Jack gasped as he felt Ianto's well-lubed fingers push against his asshole. "Just about anyone." Ianto repeated, as two fingers pushed inside. Jack groaned. "Maybe I'll call Owen," he teased, moving his hand far too slowly for Jack's liking. "I'm sure he'd get a kick out of seeing you like this - garter belt and a raging hard-on."

 _Call the entire Cardiff rugby team, if you like,_ Jack thought, fervently, moving against Ianto, trying to encourage him. Ianto seemed to delight in only giving him a little of what Jack badly wanted.

Ianto laughed quietly, a possessive, confident sound that Jack wouldn't have credited him outside the room. " _I_ like seeing you like this."

"Good," Jack winced. "Please..."

"I bet you've never had to ask more than once. Ask me again." Ianto pushed a little harder, a little faster.

"God damn it, Ianto Jones, fuck me." Jack half-shouted. He would have said _anything_.

Abruptly, Ianto withdrew, leaving Jack feeling simultaneously disappointed and expectant. "I said you could have your pleasure when I've had mine." Ianto told him, suddenly brisk, and Jack's heart - if not his cock - sank. "Get up." He took Jack's hand in his and pushed it against his trousers. Ianto's poise wavered just for a second as Jack pushed his palm against him. He caught his breath, but still had to choose his words with care, trying to keep his voice level, his gaze steady - although noticeably glazed with his own desire. "Get on your knees, and suck me."

 _Oh god. So freaking hot and so very not what I want right now. Sort of._ He sighed inwardly. _Whole hog or none, Jack_

An unexpected thought crossed his mind. "I'll ruin these stockings," he said, feeling a little foolish, but also still very aware of his tingling ass.

Ianto looked surprised, and then pleased. "That's a very good point." he nodded. "I suppose I'll have to forgo the pleasure of watching you suck me off in that, then. _And_ ," he added with a smile. "I said I'd take you out of it. A promise is a promise."

Ianto moved around Jack again, and trailed his fingers lightly down Jack's back, listening to Jack's breath quicken in the quiet room. "A person could get addicted to the sound of you." He admitted, as he snapped at the lace band resting atop Jack's hips. Jack flinched ever so slightly, and Ianto had to resist repeating the action.

 

Ianto went to work on the various hooks and snaps, taking care not to touch Jack too much. When Ianto rolled the stockings down with deliberate slowness, his breath warming Jack's skin from hip to ankle, it was all Jack could do not to grab Ianto by the hair and shove his crotch into Ianto's face. _Patience, patience..._ Jack doubted he had much left.

Finally, Jack stood fully naked before Ianto, and only somewhat aware that Ianto hadn't shed a thing.

Ianto eyed Jack's smooth-shaved legs appreciatively. _Why don't more men do that?_ He wondered.

Free of the - mental - constraints of silky lingerie and on familiar footing, so to speak, Jack gladly did as he was told, fumbling only slightly with Ianto's slacks. The circumstances were largely incidental; he finally had his hands - okay, _mouth_ \- on Ianto. Ianto's hissed intake of breath satisifed Jack immensely, and encouraged as he dragged his tongue along the length of Ianto's cock. He paused briefly to gently nip at the underside - oh, that twitching reaction was even better - before sucking the head into his mouth.

Ianto rested a hand lightly atop Jack's head - not as a guide, but more as a reassurance that this was really happening. _I'm going to have to yell at people more often if this is the eventual outcome - oh..._. Jack had taken his balls in hand and gave them equal attention, licking and sucking the soft skin. Ianto began to shake - all the more so when Jack took his cock in his mouth again and practically swallowed him whole. Ianto feared he was about to collapse and so stopped Jack just long enough to haul him to the nearby bed. Reclined, and far more comfortable, he stopped paying attention to anything but to Jack's hot mouth engulfing him.

Jack was impressed. Not that it was a competition, of course, but he prided himself on being able to bring someone off in record time and Ianto had held up remarkably well. But now they were both more comfortable? Jack felt smug. Ianto didn't stand a chance. His pace increased, mouth and hands working along Ianto's shaft, stimulating a vast area with a firm touch hear, an almost painful bite there. Ianto cried out and thrust against Jack's face. "That's lovely... oh god, yes..." he gasped, almost there. At the last moment, Ianto grabbed Jack’s hair and pulled him away.

Ianto came, fast and hard, on Jack's face. Jack remained still, realizing that was probably expected of him.

Ianto took his time catching his breath, knowing that Jack waited at the foot of the bed. He ruffled Jack's hair, in a manner not unreminiscent of petting the dog. "Get the camera."

 _That_ surprised Jack, although not all that much. He found the camera in plain sight, on top of Ianto's bag and brought it to him. In the meantime, Ianto had neatly buttoned himself back together, and sat on the edge of the bed. He pointed to the ground and Jack followed the cue. Once on his knees, and only then, Ianto made a point of looking at Jack's semen-strewn face. "You remembered,".

Jack nodded. From their extensive, exhaustive, talks of boundaries and preferred kinks, Jack had retained a comment Ianto had made almost in passing about his delight in coming on his partner's face. _The classic behaviors are the best, sometimes_ , he thought as he took two more pictures and then blithely tossed the camera onto the nearby sofa. He wiped a hand across Jack's face and held it out for him to lick clean. Jack did so, taking time to suck each finger with care. Ianto nodded, apparently satisfied. _Just when I think he's simply playing along..._

Ianto pulled Jack onto his feet and kissed him, holding him close and tight. Jack savored the mingled tastes - Ianto's tongue, his come, a hint of coffee that Jack suspected was embedded in Ianto's DNA... but the moment ended too quickly, as Ianto pushed him back down on the bed.

"I doubt you remember what I said earlier,"

"That I'd get mine once you got yours?" Jack said, somewhat cockily.

Ianto tried to scowl in disapproval at the levity, but he couldn't quite manage it. Jack was just too charming when he put his mind to it. Instead, he pushed Jack gently until he lied down, stretched out across his bed. He wriggled a bit against the abrasive sensation of the blankets against his still-sore ass.

Without comment, Ianto sat beside him and took a firm hold of Jack's cock. "Your restraint is surprising." he commented, rubbing his thumb across the slick surface, smearing pre-come over the head. "I thought you might have been tempted to finish yourself off, just now."

"It had crossed my mind," Jack admitted, squirming a little more.

"And yet you didn’t do it. Good." Ianto began jerking him off, his grasp firm and rough. "Is that good?" He asked, a hint of a wicked smile on his face.

"Yes." Jack gasped. It wasn't the fucking he wanted, but maybe later...

"Hard and quick, I thought so." Ianto's other hand nudged Jack's legs apart, stroking Jack’s balls and, as Jack raised his hips in response to Ianto’s urging, once again teased his asshole with a light, infuriating touch – one that suddenly transformed into an almost-painful thrust inside.

Jack shouted – surprised, pleased, and desperately wanting more. He thrashed, trying to fuck Ianto’s hand whilst simultaneously being invaded. “Please,” he panted, over and over. “Please...”

“Please, _what_ , Jack?”

Through a haze of self-centered pleasure, Jack realized what was wanted. “Let me come.” He gasped. “You feel so good and I want to come. Please...” he shuddered, frantic in so many ways.

Ianto spoke so quietly, Jack barely heard him, but it was enough. “Alright, Jack, you can come.” – and aggressively thrust another finger inside, pushing deep.

Jack came, shouting blasphemies and gratitude - and probably a few words in a non-Terran language, he realized later – and rode the orgasm with abandon. Vaguely, he was aware of Ianto’s voice murmuring compliments, encouragement...

A few minutes later, Jack settled in Ianto’s arms and couldn’t help feeling a little let-down, despite what had been, by any other measure, an amazing encounter. He’d enjoyed himself, but it wasn't quite what he had expected. No doubt, such was Ianto's intention.

"You're wondering why I haven't fucked you." Ianto said, stroking Jack’s hair and planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jack decided not to question the timing of that remark. "I'm wondering why you haven't even unbuttoned your collar." Jack said, muzzily. His ass stung, his cock still tingled and there was the nagging realization that he was only just getting started with... _whatever_ this was. And all Ianto had given up was his belt.

"Anticipation, Jack." Ianto kissed his forehead. "There's no point in letting you have everything at once. You'll get what you want, eventually. When you deserve it." He smiled. "You have to trust me."

"Back to that again," Jack laughed, weakly.

"Yes, that again. And thinking of _again_..."

"Oh, god..."

"Don't lose track of those stockings over there."

"I have to put them on? _Again_?" Jack gaped, incredulous.

"Not right now, no." Ianto smiled. "But until our next... date, if you want to get yourself off, I want you to wear them, then. When you masturbate."

 _Damn._ "Suddenly, the appeal of crossdressing becomes clear."

"I didn't think you'd take to celibacy, no. And I'm going to leave you a camera, because I want more pictures for my album..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was shortly after putting this piece online that I lost heart in the series. I did, eventually, come up with another take on the notion of "The Toppy Teaboy" (as I had mentally dubbed him) and tinkered with it a bit in the story "Starting Over" but that, alas, didn't work out, either. They can't all be winners, right?


End file.
